Now We're Even
by strikingsparks
Summary: Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy is still the bane of Hermione Granger's existence.
1. Chapter 1

There is one part of the Battle of Hogwarts that Hermione, despite her best efforts, never seems to be able to share with anyone else or make sense of herself.

Just after Harry disappears, hoping to sacrifice himself to Voldemort and thereby save his friends and supporters that are still alive, Hermione wanders the almost deserted corridors of Hogwarts, picking her way through the horrifying numbers of corpses spread across the cold and broken stone floors. It sickens her to do so, but she knows that someone must look for the wounded that still wait for help, and Ron and his family are too consumed with mourning Fred to even note her absence. Hermione searches each room carefully, closing the eyes of those that have already passed and finding no survivors, no matter how diligently she searches. It is only upon reaching the seventh floor of the castle that she finally comes across someone living, and she halts completely when she realizes that Draco Malfoy stands in front of the Fat Lady's portrait or, more precisely, the painting she normally resides in; the woman is nowhere to be seen.

Shock and fear course through Hermione; she assumed, apparently incorrectly, that Voldemort's Death Eaters were all together in the Forbidden Forest or some other location, hiding until the hour of temporary peace ends. The thought crosses Hermione's mind that, perhaps, the Death Eaters have returned because Harry is dead, a victim of Voldemort, and they now possess the castle. She blocks out that possibility immediately after considering it, too terrified to imagine what could result.

Instead, she stands in the shadows cast off from the dark staircase, observing Draco Malfoy. He appears to be guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, and Hermione wonders what could possibly be in there that needs protecting when, suddenly, the entrance swings open and a singed and bruised Goyle steps into the dim hallway.

"No one in there, as far as I could tell," he mutters to Draco, who nods without deigning a verbal response. "Probably best if we go check Ravenclaw next."

The light blond head rotates left to right and back again before Draco says, "No. We need to check the other rooms as well, Goyle; you head down the corridor, and I'll begin on this end. Seems unlikely anyone will stumble upon us up here."

Hermione is just considering how wrong Malfoy is, his underling disappearing into the room furthest down the hall, when he whips around to face her direction, hissing into the space, "Whoever you are, show yourself. _Now_."

She almost falls down the staircase attempting to move away, but Draco stalks forward towards her so quickly that Hermione feels her muscles and joints lock into place, paralysis nearly as strong as a basilisk's reflection holding her frozen in place. She has no wand besides the one she took from Bellatrix, and though she has battled so many Death Eaters already today, facing Malfoy alone, without Ron and Harry to support her, seems absolutely impossible in the echoes of the battered castle.

Draco is a hand's breadth from her face in the black dank of the stairs when, suddenly, Goyle's voice resounds once again, somewhere down the length of the hall.

"Draco, where'd ya go?" he asks, perfectly in unison with Malfoy's muffled "Granger?"

"Draco?" Goyle calls again, his voice closer and more anxious. Hermione waits under the gaze of Malfoy, sure that at any moment he will yell that he's discovered her and either kill her on the spot or take her to the other Death Eaters for further torture. She can be their mudblood plaything.

But suddenly he's whispering, "Consider us even now, Granger," and Hermione just hears him mutter something that sounds suspiciously like "Obscuro!" before Goyle wails in fright.

"I can't see! Draco, where are you?"

Draco doesn't respond, too busy watching her with a faint hint of disgust. Hermione still doesn't understand what's going on; what sort of game is Malfoy playing with her? But then he leans forward and says, "I'm saving your life, Granger; now _RUN_."

She stumbles backward and has just begun sprinting down the stairs when she hears Draco say, "Calm down, Goyle; you must have set off a trap of some sort. This floor is clear, by the way; we'll go search for any other survivors further down once I save you from your ridiculously incompetent self."

Hermione runs until she reaches the doors to the Great Hall, and even then she still feels her heart racing.


	2. Chapter 2

It has been nearly five years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and perhaps Hermione would not have even recollected this particular event yet again if a certain Malfoy hadn't just walked into her office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, slumping into the chair across from her desk with the sort of smug expression that seems to characterize his whole family.

"Pleasant to see you, Granger," he says, not even bothering to mask the inherent sarcasm coloring his words. "You're looking quite..." He lets his words ebb off, an insult implied even in his silence.

Hermione does her best to ignore the fire spreading across her face, a blush intensified by the irritation only his presence in a room can bring on in her.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she spits out, feeling defensive about this invasion of her private space by the only bully that still intimidates her. "Come to complain about how unfair it is to give Muggle-borns equal rights? Or the vote? Perhaps air?

"Oh no, Granger," Draco responds, the sneer on his face growing into a suspicious looking grin as he leans back, stretching his arms out before lacing them behind his head, "I've come to aid them."

* * *

Very few of the Hogwarts students in Hermione's year return to the school after the war ends, but Hermione has always loved learning, and she refuses to leave the castle, no matter the shape it is in, with less than a full education. She finds herself spending much of her time conversing with the professors, especially McGonagall, who invites her up for tea in her office at least twice a week. Returning members of Gryffindor are sparse, and though Hermione has always encouraged and enjoyed inter-house friendships and relations, she still finds herself feeling lonely.

That winter proves to be the coldest she spends at Hogwarts, and Hermione finds it more isolating than sleeping in a tent on the run. At times, she considers moving into the library because, most nights, she only falls asleep while reading in its quietest nooks. It's the one form of relaxation she can stand.

The tranquility of her bookish evenings abruptly halts some time in early March. During one particularly nasty snowstorm, Hermione sits curled into a chair, feet tucked under her as she absorbs a history of wand making. She has just begun a passage on the qualities of ash wood wands when she senses someone else's presence.

"Really, Granger, could you be any more of a complete bore?" Draco asks, glancing over his shoulder to sneer at her from his position just a few bookshelves away. "Surely, even you, in all your backwards Muggle raising, realize that one need only know what one's wand is for and, hopefully, how to use it."

Hermione sits in confused silence; normally, this would be the time for a biting retort, but despite the fact that she and Malfoy are two of only seven returning students from their class, he hasn't spoken to her for the entire last term, nor before now during this one. She wonders if he's found some new student to torment, but Hermione suspects that, truly, Draco Malfoy is avoiding her as if a reminder of his one kind moment might be fatal to his health.

"Do shut up, Malfoy; I'm sorry your brain cannot apparently contain more than idiotic insults and racist remarks, but other people do enjoy learning." Hermione turns back to her book, ready to delve into more information on every material used for wand making, when Draco walks just behind her seat and comes to a stop, glancing at the page she's attempting to read.

"Perhaps, Granger, you should quit learning about wands and remember, when the time comes, to use yours," he says before sliding out of the room.

Hermione sits in stunned silence for quite a while before going back to Gryffindor tower. She doesn't visit the library after class hours again for the rest of the year.


	3. Chapter 3

"Malfoy, I wouldn't trust you to help an octogenarian across Diagonal Alley, let alone to aid the entire Muggle-born and halfblood populations of the wizarding world. I'm not mad, so what are you here for?" Hermione asks impatiently, ready to be rid of Malfoy and his poorly crafted lies.

"Truly, Granger, you ought to be thanking me; I am, after all, at your service."

"And why, exactly, would that be the case?"

Draco grins even more widely before saying, "Ever hear of the successful wizarding law firm known as Smith & Baker?"

Suddenly, Hermione has the distinct notion that her workdays are about to become much, much more stressful. "No" is all she can sputter out in the wake of this news.

"Yes, Granger; I'm the new liaison with the firm that you requested."

"When I asked for more help, I supposed that someone with a smidgen or two of compassion for those who aren't purebloods would take the job. You do realize that the laws I'm hoping to have eradicated are unfair to people with family backgrounds like mine, yes?" she asks, almost hoping against hope that Malfoy will stand and yell "Truly?!" before marching out of the room.

Instead, of course, he just says, "The cases will be quite popular with the majority of the wizarding population who are for equality, wouldn't you say? And they could potentially cause some to forget the missteps of one who, in youth and foolishness, may have said and done some things to offend this particular sect of the population?"

Hermione throws him a rueful smile, replying, "Looking for an easy way to climb the next rung of your company's ladder, Malfoy?"

"Granger, please; I truly care for all the sorry lot of your style of breeding."

"A pleasure to work with you then, you miserable power-hungry cretin," Hermione says with disgust before pushing away from her desk to rise out of her chair and shake Draco's hand. If he draws it back with fingers that are more jelly-like in texture than before, she certainly doesn't act as if she has anything to do with it.

* * *

"Malfoy? Seriously?" Harry asks her later that evening in the pub, looking as shell-shocked as she feels. "Has the Ministry gone mad?"

Hermione has just finished relating her news to the gathered group: Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Lavender have been huddled around the table interjecting exclamations of surprise and indignation since she began a half hour ago. While the topic is new, the gathering is not; she has been meeting at the pub with her friends almost nightly since the war ended, though the group has undergone its shifts. Lavender is a more recent addition than the rest; she and Ron have only been back together as a pair for the last two years or so, though it's been over four years since he and Hermione realized that their friendship wasn't quite enough to make their relationship last.

Though she used to loathe her rather intensely, Hermione has become increasingly good friends with Lavender; the girl bonded with her quickly after Hermione saved her in battle, and she's grown up considerably. Hermione supposes they all have. Harry and Ginny are now married, happily discussing the prospects of future children and other plans whenever they are given the chance, and Hermione would bet her best cauldron on Ron proposing to Lavender in the next six months. Everyone's lives are advancing so swiftly, it feels as if they ought to be knocked right off their feet by the pace of their daily schedules.

Only Hermione seems to be experiencing the sort of epic disasters that include things like having to cooperate with Draco Malfoy, however.

"So, he basically told you it's a power play on his part?" Ginny asks, concern scrunching together the skin just between her eyebrows.

"He absolutely told me so, though it's not as if that matters. If he helps to eradicate the laws, it certainly will clean up his family's name and his own, no matter what sort of individual he truly is," Hermione replies, slumping forward onto the table and muttering, "I am going to spend the next several months working with the man who believes my name is interchangeable with the word mudblood."

"'Mione, if he creates problems, Harry and I can always take care of him for you," Ron says, slamming his fist into his other hand in a way that obviously signals how, exactly, Draco Malfoy ought to be treated.

"Oh, good grief, Ron, you and Harry are not first years anymore, so stop with the threats of violence. Besides, Hermione is plenty capable of handling the scummy Malfoy heir. There's a reason she's so good at jinxes, hexes, and the like, after all," Lavender says, sending a knowing smile her way from across the table.

"Thank you, Lavender," Hermione says, adding, "You're perfectly correct, of course; Malfoy has already been reminded today of how handy I am with the jelly-finger curse."

The table's occupants burst into laughter at this, and Hermione relaxes into her seat just a little more.


	4. Chapter 4

"For heaven's sake, Granger, how much paperwork do you intend to have me review?" Draco asks from behind a pile of documents and files he holds the next morning, huffing after his question as if, no matter the answer, he knows he will be displeased.

"Believe it or not, Malfoy, eradicating a law actually requires one to do some research. Difficult to understand, I'm sure," Hermione says in response, placing one more large file in Draco's straining arms.

"Oh, I understand that it necessitates research, but I didn't expect it to include a library's worth," he says, coughing intermittently on the dust collected just under his chin between his fussing. "Just where, exactly, should I even put all of these ever so important documents?"

Hermione is tempted to tell Malfoy he can shove them somewhere in particular, but she restrains herself. She can be kind to Draco. Surely.

"We'll take them back to my office, I suppose, so that we can review the material as a team," she finally manages to say, though she has the urge to gag. Hermione has always hated group work.

Once she feels she has amassed an adequate amount of information, Hermione motions for him to exit out the door of the department's storage room, slamming shut a filing cabinet or two before she heads out herself and imagining that, really, she is smashing Malfoy's head between the slabs of screeching metal. Patience, she reminds herself, patience.

Despite all of the paperwork balancing precariously on his arms, Draco saunters down the hall without hesitation. Even in walking, Malfoy seems to scream of cockiness, she thinks, nearly sprinting just to beat him to her office door and remove the various spells keeping it locked. When she pulls the door open, he pushes past her, nearly knocking her over. Hermione curses at him silently, shutting the door after she regains her balance and slides inside.

Despite her earlier wariness of working as a pair, Hermione does find herself surprised by how quickly Draco goes through the information. At first, she suspects that he isn't even reading anything, but after a half hour, he says, "Perhaps you'd like to petition that the Ministry remove a law allowing any Muggle-born to be held for questioning without being charged for a crime?"

Hermione snatches the paper he is reading out of his hand as she says, "Is that really what it says?!"

It is. The rest of the morning passes in between Hermione's other cries of outrage as she and Draco locate even more ridiculously prejudiced laws. By noon, she has a list of 21 that she hopes will be changed, and they aren't even halfway through the paperwork. Exhausted from their findings, Hermione suggests a lunch break, and she heads off to eat before Draco even responds.

Hermione wanders down to Diagon Alley, ready for a nice lunch with Ginny and a pint of butterbeer to ease away the stress her morning's work has created all through her spine. She takes the majority of lunch up with blather and complaints about both the laws and Draco until, when she is mid-gulp on her second pint, Ginny says, "You'll never believe what Ron told me he bought yesterday."

While Ginny might be surprised, Hermione is not, and she says "A ring" at the exact moment her friend does. "How long until he proposes, you think?" she asks.

"Maybe in the next few weeks? She always did want to have a fall wedding, you know, so I'd think he'd give her the time to plan it."

Hermione laughs then. "She always wanted to be married in September because it'd be right near her birthday and easier for him to remember both. Doesn't about four months, not even including that he hasn't yet proposed, seem quite a short time to plan to you?"

Ginny just grins, looking equally doubtful of Ron's chosen time frame. "We'll have to see, I suppose." She looks Hermione up and down for a moment, seeming to ponder how she ought to say what she's thinking. "Hermione, you know," she says, the look on her face somewhere between mischievous and nervous, "while four months may not be very much time to plan a wedding in, it _is_ quite a while to, oh, choose someone to include as your plus one."

Hermione suddenly has the feeling that what she has drunk might revisit her mug if Ginny keeps talking. "Ginny, did all of my information about how busy I am at work escape your notice? I'm practically babysitting a former Death Eater as I attempt to eradicate laws put in place by his lot for their benefit. I don't exactly have the time to devote to sifting through all the chaff and idiots of London."

"Hermione, you haven't been out with anyone since... Well, it's been so long that I honestly don't remember when."

Tracing her finger across the still damp exterior of her mug, Hermione says, "Since Ron, Ginny, and that's because I happen to know that I enjoy my work and dislike disturbances to it and because, too, I know absolutely no man that is the equivalent of what I desire for myself."

Ignoring what could possibly be seen as a quip about her brother, Ginny replies, "But aren't you lonely?"

Hermione just smiles ruefully before paying for her lunch.

* * *

When she arrives back at the Ministry, she's surprised to see her office light on already, even more shocked when she walks in and sees Draco hunched over in the same position he was in when she left, still gleaning through files for something useful. When he realizes she's returned, he colors to a bright red.

"Having a long lunch, Granger? You certainly took your time coming back."

Hermione, noting his embarrassment over what was apparently just more work for him, says, "Yes, Malfoy, one must eat, after all."

He continues to go through the crumpled pile of files in his lap as she resituates herself, and Hermione watches him work, doing his best to seem intent upon and interested in what he's reading so that he doesn't have to look at her. Something about him strikes her as quite different from the sneering boy she knew at Hogwarts, though he appears to sill have grown up into a sneering man. After a moment, the right description comes to mind: lonely. Draco Malfoy has never looked as alone as he does to Hermione at this moment, skipping meals not because he knows no one in the department but because, she supposes, they have known him too well. Even though his Dark Mark has faded, she doubts many wizards and witches have forgotten who Draco Malfoy and his family supported until the final moments of the war.

For a horrible second, Hermione understands why, exactly, clearing or even simply cleaning up his name might be so important to Draco. And in that second, pity and sympathy cause Hermione to say something she almost immediately regrets.

"Malfoy, if you can manage to be less than foul for an hour or two, you are welcome to join me during your lunch break."

At her words, Draco's face seems to slacken, unable to respond to an offer so unexpected. Then, however, he recovers and states, with more than a trace of disgust, "Why, thank you, Granger; I'll consider your offer when I completely lose my mind and dignity."

Blast being nice to bits, Hermione thinks, I hope the cocky degenerate chokes on that smug grin.


End file.
